


savôrs di ploja

by ueberdemnebelmeer



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 07:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ueberdemnebelmeer/pseuds/ueberdemnebelmeer
Summary: And then, Merlin surprised him. "Kiss it better?"(Written forarthur_pendragon'sMerthur Kiss Fest)





	savôrs di ploja

**Author's Note:**

> The title's in Friulian and translates to " _flavours of rain_ "
> 
> This is, like, the first piece of writing I've ever published online and it's the fruit of procrastination and of a late-night sugar high. But,,, I desperately wanted to contribute to [Ato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthur_pendragon)'s fest, so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The trail flanking the forest edge was overgrown with weeds, hiding treacherous roots and slippery stones. Moistness sticked to his skin, the fog creeping around every tree at their base and swallowing every distant object.

Raiders had surprised them soon after dawn, eyelids still crusty and limbs too sluggish with lingering sleep to react in time. The horses had scattered as soon as the culprits cut their reins from where they were tied to a twisted hazel, other men doubtlessly waiting for them in the woods to snatch them away.

Arthur had insisted on a horseback excursion, a much-needed break from his duties, but not wanting to feel too guilty about it they hadn't strayed far from Camelot. However, in the haste of getting them back to the castle, despite knowing these trails like the back of his hands, he had led them on the wrong turn at a fork in the road. It obliged them to a slow-going pace and managed to lengthen their trip by half a day.

Merlin followed him a few steps behind, hands gripping the small of his back and cursing sticks and rocks and clumsy feet and smooth soles under his breath anytime he narrowly prevented his face from getting acquainted with the ground.

"Come on, Merlin, we haven't got all day"

Merlin huffed. "You're the one who got us on the wrong track."

"If it were up to you, we'd still be in that clearing. Hurry up."

He couldn't hear what Merlin muttered in response, but it sounded suspiciously like 'Prat'.

He had almost reached the ridge over which the city would have been in sight - if it weren't for the vast blanket of white hanging over the plains - when he heard the tell-tale 'oomph' of Merlin's backside kissing the ground. He rolled his eyes, took a deep breath and jogged back to where Merlin sprawled over clumps of high grass. Arthur bent down to grasp his manservant's arm and hauled him back upright. But Merlin stumbled and gripped Arthur's shoulders, gasping.

He wasn't putting any weight on his left foot, Arthur noticed. He nodded to it, "Sit down and roll up your trousers."

"I'm fine," Merlin protested.

"Nonsense, let me see."

"I said I'm fine." Merlin attempted a few steps - "See?" - but he barely managed to conceal his grimace.

"Could have fooled me," deadpanned Arthur. "Sit down."

"I'm not drenching my trousers again."

"They're drenched already, might as well do as I say"

"Fine!" said Merlin, and flung himself on the grass again. Arthur perched on a flat rock and guided Merlin's extended leg on his lap. He took off his boot gently, taking care not to jostle Merlin's ankle too much, and slid down his sock. Merlin stretched to cuff his trouser leg, their faces so close their breaths mingled. Arthur busied himself with prodding his ankle for a while, warm and puffy under his fingertips.

And then, Merlin surprised him. "Kiss it better?"

Arthur's head snapped up. Seconds passed. He stared into those cerulean eyes, open and sincere, their magnetic pull preventing him from averting his own. Merlin lowered his gaze, cheeks flushed with exertion or cold - or possibly something else Arthur didn't dare name - and that prompted Arthur to bend down and place a fleeting kiss on Merlin's malleolus. He traced his thumb over it, its bump almost invisible under the swelling. As Arthur raised his eyes, Merlin drew his other knee to his chest, wrapping his arms around it and ducking his head to hide his face in the crook of his elbow.

Finally, Arthur cleared his throat, "This needs bandaging…"

"Arthur, don't-" Merlin trailed off when he heard the first tear of fabric.

Arthur wrapped the strip of cloth around Merlin's left ankle as tightly as possible, and carefully nudged back the sock and boot over it. He patted Merlin's knee and sit up, smiling awkwardly.

Merlin opened his mouth as if to speak, but then closed it just as quickly and bit his lower lip. The little crinkle between his brows eased and he lifted his hands to cup Arthur’s shoulders. Arthur stared back at him, his heart stuttering in his chest.

Merlin leaned in tentatively and closed the distance in a dry press of lips, eyes shut. He didn’t linger.

Merlin’s eyes flickered open. Their faces were inches apart, so close that Arthur could feel Merlin’s laboured breath on his face. Arthur’s eyes roved over Merlin’s features, pausing on his lips. He swallowed. He never noticed how plush and soft they looked.

“You’re pretty,” blurted Arthur, one hand coming up to cup Merlin’s face and draw him closer, and bent down so they could rub their smiles against each other and slot their mouths together.

Merlin surged forward and held him, his hands sliding down to squeeze his arms. He pulled Arthur in tight and tilted his head to deepen the kiss, eager and sweet. Arthur sighed into it, his lips tingling.

They pulled apart to breathe but kept their foreheads pressed against each other, smiling contentedly. Merlin leaned in to nuzzle at the soft skin beneath his ear and sagged against his chest.

As soon as Merlin began to sit up, Arthur hooked his arms around his waist and stood abruptly, heaving him over his shoulder.

"Arthur? What are you—let me down!" Merlin demanded in a high-pitched voice, battering Arthur’s back with his fists. "I'm not your damsel in distress! Let me down!"

Arthur’s mind had just provided him with a very effective idea to make him shut up. As expected, Merlin suddenly stopped flailing and Arthur spun around, tackling the track once again.

"Have you just pecked me on the arse?"

"I have."

"Oh."

He conquered the top of the ridge in silence, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smug grin.


End file.
